LIT WINDOW

we are here to see, to adventure through the panes

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A new fair use music video with “footage” from 1950′s Gun Crazy (Joseph H. Lewis). The artist is Oona Ruin, who wrote out how we met on her Instagram.

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Until somebody tells me, “No,” I want you to see my video for Ben and Denalda’s Introflirt single “Orange Light” — images from the cherished LAST YEAR AT MARIENBAD.

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a LIT WINDOW film by Ryland Walker Knight

Thanks to Mia Nolting, Adrienne Cronberger, Lincoln and Sarah Walker, Maxwell August Croy, and Charlie.

Full poem can be read here.

Chapbook of the same name can be purchased for $0.99 on amazon here.

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TGIF! Here’s some real language failure with RWK—

https://soundcloud.com/ryland-walker-knight/25-postscript

You can get this shirt in red, too.

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Throwback Thursday, as it were, brings a reading from a fave one of RWK’s—

https://soundcloud.com/ryland-walker-knight/civilization-and-its-discontents

For sizing, expected warmth, click here.

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Hump day has this song sung from Eric Marsh—

Robbie Basho didn’t just hear music but he saw it, too: diagnosed with synesthesia, he literally saw music as colors, which is probably why he referred to his compositions as ‘guitar paintings’. His relentless curiosity and voracious appetite for global music and culture—American folk, Hindu ragas, Native American chants and dream-myths, to name a few—fueled his dramatic and personal rendering of America as a panoramic landscape of transcendental beauty.

Visions of the Country, his ode to the untrammeled American west, marks one of the peaks of a mountainous career. The foundation for this expansive and bombastic vision of texture and feeling is laid by his virtuosic acoustic steel string finger-picking (worthy of his one-time associate and primitive guitar god John Fahey) but is through his voice—which is to say his soul—in which he reaches out towards the astral plane. He bellows, whistles, chants, and speaks in tongues; an outpouring of emotion. Booming and ecstatic, he delivers paeans to mountains and rivers and deserts. Brooding and melancholic, he offers laments for orphans (he was one) and the wilderness. His songs are not, he once said, “far out, but another level of feeling,” and in this unique, deeply felt, and spiritual vision the feelings cascade. Ride the milky way, home!

For sizing click here.

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A new Tuesday brings about a soft suplex as only he can, Uncas Blythe—

Ryszard Kapuscinski tells this story: “I was upcountry in Rhodesia (a country that no longer exists) and I ran across a group of teen — it was not so much yet the time of child soldiers — criminals who had some vague and loose allegiance to Nkomo. One of them was wearing a strange shirt with a sideways kanji that said OFFICE KITANO. I asked him about the shirt and they said that their Colonel, a dangerous fool who went by the name of Comrade Rogozhin, was showing them Kitano movies to instill hope and revolutionary discipline. ‘We love Kitano. He is funny. He has the deep killing sadness.’ the kid said without visible melancholy. I traded him some French cigarettes and a long loaded clip from a kalashnikov, and wore the shirt for years until this Montenegrin woman stole it.” So this isn’t a copy of that shirt but an homage to those long ago teenaged killers who loved Kitano. I find this tone of blue very soothing and I suspect you will too. It is also a great way to show off your vast and rising ethnoeccentricity. Tell everyone that the kanji means “the hegemony of poetry” or you can say instead it is the proportions of the human body according to Kitano Takeshi.

For sizing, coloring options—click here. 

Also available as a tote bag.

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Our first blurb comes from Daniel Coffeen—

David Cronenberg doing Burroughs which, at first, might seem impossible. But it’s actually quite the contrary as Burroughs’ writing is explicitly cinematic; Burroughs felt cinema was years ahead of literature in the ways it could fold time and create synchronicity. The film gives us Burroughs’ baroque burlesque as so much giddy visual candy — hilarious, grotesque, and delirious.

Here is Judy Davis as Joan Lee, Burroughs' wife whom he shot in a Willam Tell trick gone awry — in real life and in the film. He’s an exterminator who keeps running out of bug powder when he learns his wife is stealing it to inject it. “It’s a literary high,” she tells him. He then walks in as she’s shooting the bug powder. Unphased, she utters, “You weren’t supposed to see this."

Click here to browse colors and sizes.

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We started an online shop. Proceeds go to Standing Rock. This week we’ll be explaining some of our more esoteric moments herein, from Claire Denis to John Ashbery to how we were put on this earth to dance. 

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We’ve been cooking up something for the internet: a gift, let’s call it.

Without spoiling too much, we simply ask you to stay tuned, and enjoy.

Beach House + Michael Mann = Mann’s Sparks.

Coming Soon.

12 - 25 -15

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Agatha et les lectures illimitées,  Marguerite Duras , 1981.

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Jacques Rivette, for all his lengthy pictures, is the king of the caesura, the timely edit, the apposite cut —often to black.

— LIT WINDOW (@LITWINDOW) November 11, 2015

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Eileen is a great novel the same way The Price of Salt is a great novel

— LIT WINDOW (@LITWINDOW) October 29, 2015

Voice and place working to pace the story in a unique way that only THIS AUTHOR could accomplish with THESE TOOLS.

— LIT WINDOW (@LITWINDOW) October 29, 2015

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Van Gogh, 1991, Maurice Pialat

via Nick Pinkerton’s overview at Artforum

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A retrospective of the films of Maurice Pialat runs October 16 – November 1 at the Museum of the Moving Image in Astoria, New York.

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Certified Copy, 2010, d. Abbas Kiarostami

Bells are ringing. 

Danny calls it gluey. Sicinski calls it a measured stream; or that’s how I read his beautifully ordered argument. I, of course, see the Cavell. 

CC seems to me to be a movie about how to make a marriage renew itself. Not necessarily about remarriage, per se, as in the comedies of old; nor is it a melodrama of contesting tears, though our heroine here remains unnamed and unknown; this is a perpetual state of becoming other, othered, othering, becoming anew. And there’s a kind of insistence, a forcing the issue, that overrides the comedic elements and charges the affect of fun, [hetero-], human sexuality into a danger zone.

In the end, the film is—as the final sequence in particular might be read metonymically—an ascension to a belfry of play in the half light, where the luxury of sex can be a threat from without lit windows as much as an invitation to fun along a neckline’s plunge.

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She is lit by a window here. #2

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Certified Copy, 2010, d. Abbas Kiarostami

Had to press pause and get this as quickly as possible with my iPhone.

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She is lit by a window here. #1

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Let’s try this again.

1. a trailer for new RWK work, Nothing is written not for nothing (2016?). [Direct vimeo link.]

2. a poem which will be included in said film, yet to be finished.

3. our IMDb page.